


Marvelous

by Not_You



Category: Watchmen (Comic), Watchmen - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Childhood Memories, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dysphoria, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Kiss, Frottage, Hermaphrodites, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Menstruation, Pre-Canon, Rorschach Has Issues, Scary Movies, Self-Acceptance, Self-Hatred, Slow Burn, Vaginal Fingering, old fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-18
Updated: 2017-05-18
Packaged: 2018-11-02 03:59:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 4,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10936542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Not_You/pseuds/Not_You
Summary: The one where Rorschach is a hermaphrodite, and of course is self-loathing about it because he's Rorschach.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic deals with some heavy intersex issues, so for the love of Nyarlathotep, take care of yourself on this one. Dan can't help looking at Rorschach a bit like a scientist, but he's a _friendly_ scientist, I promise.
> 
> (I say intersex issues because it's the most relevant real-world thing. This Rorschach has no real condition that I know of, and 'hermaphrodite' was used in the prompt and there's a tag for it here, let me know if that hurts your feelings or anything.)

Dan pokes his head into the bathroom to let his partner know he's heading upstairs and that Rorschach is welcome to follow. He's done this a couple of times before, but only now is he greeted with the reaction he expected the first time. Instead of actually being in the damn shower, Rorschach is naked except for his mask and staring into the mirror with a look of mingled fascination and revulsion that makes Dan pity him.

"DON'T LOOK AT ME!" Rorschach screams, plucking a washcloth from the basin and hurling it unerringly into Dan's eyes.

"Gah! I'm sorry, but turn off the shower when you get out and I'll know not to come in!" He pulls the washcloth away but doesn't open his eyes, wiping his face and cleaning his glasses with his sleeve. "I just wanted to know if you were staying for dinner. Or whatever."

"...N-not disgusted?"

"By what? Christ, I didn't even..." He cracks one eye and yelps in alarm. His sleeve (and apparently his face as well) is inexplicably streaked with blood. He looks up at Rorschach, who leaps into the shower again, yanking the curtain off the rod to wrap it tightly around himself. Blinking, Dan can see the a small spot on the bathmat, perfectly round, as if it had fallen straight down from... Holy shit. "Rorschach, if you're bleeding out the ass, you need to let someone help you." He goes to the sink to wash his face and his glasses, pulling the sweater off and leaving it in the basin to soak.

"...Not injured, Daniel," he croaks. He sounds like he's about to cry.

"...This is kind of a lot of blood, Rorschach."

"Monster." He says it so softly that Dan can barely hear it.

"What?"

"I'm bleeding because I'm a monster."

Dan remembers every snarling, smoky-voiced thing Rorschach has ever said about women, and suddenly feels like he's going to cry. "Rorschach," he says gently, "whatever anybody told you, menstruation is a normal function."

He glares, looking exasperated with Dan's stupidity. "Not woman. _Monster_." 

Scowling, he flings the curtain aside and parts his knees enough for Dan to see. The part of Dan's mind that knows how many feathers a trumpeter swan has makes a quick inventory through the shock. Something about the shape and size of a cock with strangely clitoral features near the head, currently and quite understandably flaccid, partially obscuring what appears to be an otherwise normal vulva, except for the lower portions of the labia majora, which seem to have formed a kind of ad hoc scrotum for what appear to be functional and fully-descended testicles. He slowly looks back up to his partner's face, noting that his chest looks like a flat girl's only with more muscle mass. 

"Disgusted now," Rorschach growls, and it looks like he's fighting to keep his lip from trembling.

"No." Dan smiles reassuringly, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Rorschach, you're a marvel, not a monster." Rorschach blinks at him as he stands up. "Go on and get cleaned up. There should be food in about fifteen minutes." He leaves his partner gaping at him, and has to stop halfway up the stairs, whimpering as it finally dawns on him that he's so hard that it's a little painful. Seems about par for the course, really.


	2. Chapter 2

Rorschach sits where he is for a few minutes after Dan leaves, then the cold soaks in and he starts to feel bad about the ravished shower curtain, and stands to shake the rumples out and hang it in its proper place. It has his blood on it, and he grimaces, turning the shower on again to spray it and himself clean. Stepping out, he knows there will be no feminine hygiene products in this bathroom, but there are bandages. It seems more appropriate to bandage up what feels like a bleeding wound than to tuck a neat little lavender-scented pad into his dainty panties anyway, and he smiles grimly.

The kitchen smells like soup and bread, and he swallows as his mouth waters because he hasn't eaten all day. Woke up with blood in his bed and a stomachache and some attendant nausea, and hasn't had a moment since. Now, though. He goes to sit at the table, mask all the way down instead of half-up as it usually is in Daniel's house. Another wave of shame comes up as he remembers one of Daniel's quips about wishing he had as little facial hair as Rorschach. He's never been able to manage real stubble, too much a woman to acquire more than a sad, adolescent peach fuzz after a week of no attention. Still. Daniel is humming some old song and stirring the soup, and when he turns to his partner, his smile reaches his eyes.

"Hey, buddy. I'm just making some chicken velvet and heating up a loaf of french bread, I'm beat."

"Chicken... velvet?" Rorschach cocks his head, and Daniel laughs.

"Just what it's called. Like red velvet cake."

"Ah."

"Really it's just three cans dumped in a pot, but it's pretty good."

It is good. When Rorschach starts on his bowl he's already grateful for hot food, but that it's actually filling and delicious nearly brings him to tears. "Thank you, Daniel," he grates when he's half-way through his second bowl and can remember how to talk.

Daniel just smiles, gnawing on a hunk of the bread and debating getting thirds. "Any time, buddy."

It's so bizarre that nothing is any different. Rorschach has been prepared for revulsion, derision, hysterical laughter, and even (god help them both) prurient interest. Anything but this calm camaraderie. "Daniel," he finally says, his partner mostly done with the few dishes, bread demolished and foil balled up. "Not disgusted?"

He sighs. "No, Rorschach. Maybe a little fascinated, but it's clearly a sensitive subject. I mean, if being circumcised was regarded with half the fascinated horror your condition and those like it generally get, and you saw my dick, I'd want you to just file it away as 'okay, that's part of Nite Owl' and keep being my partner."

"...Oh." He just stands there for a moment, and is still standing too close when Daniel turns around after drying his hands. Rorschach takes one in both of his own. "Uncommonly tolerant. Thank you."

"Look, you're a close-minded hard-ass, and I know you'd accept me if our positions were reversed. You might freak out a little, but you and I know that it's what we do that matters, not what our junk looks like." He pulls away then, but it's only to push his glasses up and put the soup in the refrigerator.

"Good night, Daniel."

"G'night, Rorschach. Get some sleep."


	3. Chapter 3

Dan does his level best to stick to his own high-minded ideals, but goddamn it's hard and so is he. Fucking constantly, and there are _dreams_ and he fucking invented Nite Owl to fucking get away from being a fucking awkward fucking dateless fucking fucking mathlete FUCK! The last is said aloud, as he kicks open the basement door because it's the only place in the house that isn't nasty-hot, and he doesn't know if he can even patrol in this kind of heat. 

Rorschach jumps and so does Dan, who immediately feels stupid. "Sorry, buddy. Didn't know you were here."

"Careless, Daniel," he growls, and Jesus, he's still wearing that fucking scarf.

"Christ, do you want some water? Some electrolytes?" He comes the rest of the way down, sighing quietly in relief. "Coolant tubes for your coat, maybe?"

"Fine like this," he growls. "Come on, the night isn't getting any younger."

"Oh, man. Look, I've got this summer weight costume I need to test out..."

"Get it."

"I just wanted you to know that it's skintight and I don't want to hear anything about it."

"Fine," Rorschach huffs, and Dan wonders if that noise of exasperation only sounds feminine because he knows, and fetches his costume. 

Changes into it in front of Rorschach because that's how he did it at first, and then he had a gay crush on Rorschach and modesty would be an admission of guilt, and now Rorschach is unclassifiable and all the rest of it is still there. The grey material clings to his skin and getting his goddamn cup on is a nightmare but finally, finally they can get going.

Archie has air-conditioning, because as god is Dan's witness, Archie will eventually have everything. So it's not so bad until they have to do some legwork. Heat radiates off the pavement, so intense that isn't ameliorated at all by nightfall. Later Dan is ashamed of himself for not noticing Rorschach fading, but dammit, the guy could hide a gunshot wound he's so fucking stoic. So it's only after they stop a gang fight and leave everyone gift-wrapped for the cops that Rorschach lets himself collapse. It's a good thing he's so small, Dan can just scoop him up and carry him into Archie.

He checks for real injury, and finds none. Shit. Hyperthermia. "God, buddy. You are such a dumbass." 

The air-conditioning is already cranked, and he's already seen the whole show, so they head straight up on autopilot as Dan yanks off the goddamn scarf to reveal bright red, dry skin, and tears open Rorschach's coat. He has to take a minute to set Archie to hover, then pulls off the suit jacket, the vest ("Seriously, Rorschach?") and unbuttons the his partner's shirt. Apparently even Rorschach can only be so stupid, so there's at least no goddamn undershirt. The lack of sweat and the radiating, feverlike heat are fucking scary. Even so, he debates removing the mask for a moment. Only a moment, though. He's crazy enough to be in this situation in the first place, but certainly not dumb enough to leave a latex bag on a heatstroke victim's head. Or wool slacks on their legs. Despite all his fantasies, there's only a tiny, unavoidable thread of arousal in this. He's mostly afraid his partner's marvelous, devious brain has been fried like an egg.

"Hey, Rorschach?" he breathes, desperate for an answer. It's only been about two minutes, all told, but the longest two minutes of Dan's life so far. "Rorschach, wake up."


	4. Chapter 4

"Hrrgh?" Rorschach barely manages to make a sound, consciousness filtering back.

"Come on, buddy," Daniel murmurs, his cowl shoved back over sweat-damp hair.

Everything is strange and fuzzy and he's naked, and worse even than that, unmasked. He thrashes wildly, not thinking anything beyond _up_ and _out_. Daniel catches his flailing fists. "Rorschach! Stop that!"

"...Daniel?" he croaks, and Daniel grins from ear to ear.

"Yeah, man. Come on, lets get you home and into a cool bath."

He hates lying there, exposed and monstrous on the steel floor, but Daniel is right. He feels completely off-balance and wretched, and meekly sips cool water the whole way as Daniel puts on one of the old jazz standards Rorschach has been unable to conceal a fondness for and flies at hazardous speed. Rorschach tries to walk up the stairs from the Nest, but Daniel just growls, stripping off his own costume and scooping him up, carrying him upstairs and setting him in the tub, running lukewarm water over him since cold would counter-intuitively make it worse.

It's only in the calm that follows that things get awkward, with Daniel sitting on the closed lid of the toilet, obviously fighting every bit of rightful horrified fascination, humming to himself as he keeps his gaze up, not letting it drift. Rorschach's eyes fill with tears, and he bitterly blames the female part of him, automatically drawing his knees up.

"Don't do that."

He's not sure if Daniel means curling up or crying. "What?"

Daniel turns and looks at him, and he doesn't say what he meant to. "Buddy, are you crying?" Rorschach scrubs at his eyes and doesn't answer, and Daniel kneels beside the tub. "Hey, it's all right. And straighten out, curling up conserves heat." 

There's sense in this, and he obeys, hating to be exposed again. "Hate this."

"I know, buddy. I'll give your mask back as soon as I can. Everything else is soaked with about ten gallons of sweat, so I'm washing it first and nothing you can say will sway me. I can loan you something to wear."

"...Thank you, Daniel."

"Hey, I know you'd do it for me." And he just smiles, open and guileless and Rorschach is kissing him. He has to admit to himself later that he starts it, that Daniel's first sound is one of surprise, then a low, happy moan that makes Rorschach clench and twitch, doubled lust springing to life. "Rorschach?" Daniel whispers.

"Can't..." He swallows, feeling like there's a bone in his throat. "Have wanted to do this for a long time. Don't know how."

"Hey, that's okay," Daniel murmurs against his lips. "I'll teach you."

Rorschach whimpers and can barely mind, Daniel's big hands scooping up cool water and pouring it down his back as he gently licks his way into his mouth.


	5. Chapter 5

In a way, it's even worse than when everything was unspoken, because Rorschach is in no way ready to go past second base. Dan is limping around with blue balls for months after that first kiss, but it's worth every moment. Holding his partner in his arms and suckling those gumdrop nipples until he whines, waking up with Rorschach wrapped around him from behind, morning wood pressed against his ass, kissing him slow and deep while they ignore the news, all of these things are worth it. There's no screwing around with pronouns, either. Rorschach is very firm on considering himself male with a severe abnormality, and seems quite relieved that Dan is willing to play along.

It's another night that's too hot to patrol. With the mercury up at record-breaking levels, even Rorschach has agreed to see reason. He has also agreed to spend the night with Dan out of costume (well, as out of it as he gets) so it's like a date, and Dan is scurrying accordingly. He feels kind of stupid, but it's ingrained. He's made a completely cold spread for dinner because the thought of anything else is totally disgusting, and has the air conditioning up full blast. There's a horror movie marathon, and a chess set if Rorschach hates horror movies (he's evinced a kind of quiet, guilty fascination, so Dan is hoping the answer is no) and if both of those fail he's sure they'll think of something that isn't screwing.

He nearly jumps out of his skin when there's a knock at the basement door, then remembers who he's dealing with and opens it. "Hi," Rorschach croaks, his hat in his hands. He's still wearing the trenchcoat, but with only the undershirt, all the rest discarded. Dan can see the four bandaids keeping his nipples in check, two x's of negation, and it makes him pull his partner close and kiss him softly.

"Hey, buddy. Glad you could make it."

"Rrrmmph," Rorschach mutters, nuzzling his shoulder.

"You hungry?" Dan asks, petting the mask.

"...Yes."

"Great." He leads him into the kitchen. "I figured I should just fix some cold stuff since it's so goddamn hot out."

"Sensible," Rorschach mutters, and seats himself, plowing through cold cuts, vegetables, and boiled eggs like he hasn't eaten all day.

"Dammit, Rorschach."

"It's been too hot to eat." He shudders, remembering his hellish workday. They had punched out at two pm after three people fainted.

"True." Dan has been compulsively nibbling on everything the entire time he was working with it, so he leaves the serious eating to Rorschach, while he pitches the horror flick idea. "It's Summer Spine-Chillers or something, but they're showing _Carnival of Souls_ and _Them!_ back to back."

"Hurm..." Rorschach ponders it for a moment. "Have popcorn?"

"Buddy. Please. I'm a professional." Dan grins and gets up to start making it. "And before you ask, there's Cokes in the fridge."

"Excellent." Rorschach pours two of them over ice (the cans are unholy and make it taste like metal, apparently) and sets up an encampment on the couch, purring his approval of all the butter and salt on the popcorn.

"I wasn't really sure you were the kinda guy who went for horror movies."

"Hn." He crunches more popcorn, a commercial for salad dressing cavorting by. "Went to the movies whenever I could when I was a kid. If there wasn't a gangster picture, a creature feature would do."

"Well, only _Them!_ could really be called that. The other one's supposed to be psychological."

"I can do psychological." Rorschach rasps, and Dan can't quite repress a shudder.


	6. Chapter 6

Rorschach snuggles in against Dan's side, stuffing popcorn into his mouth and muttering about the dire threat of unrestrained nukes as enormous ants terrorize the Southwest. He's not all that surprised when Rorschach gets into it anyway, though. The cheap gimmick of children in peril works on just about everybody decent, it seems to Dan that his partner is doing his best to quash some kind of reaction when the heroic cop gives his life for the two boys and his partner is there just in time to hear his last words. There might even be an audible sniffle, but a commercial for two-piece swimsuits for subteen girls gets him to growling dire predictions about the future of America, and Dan smiles.

"Don't see anything funny about it, Daniel."

"Of course you don't. Want another Coke?"

"...Yes." 

Dan goes and gets it, shucking his shirt because the kitchen is hotter than the living room, coming back to find Rorschach cracking unpopped kernels between his teeth as the tv blares an ad for a godawful show about some guy who hunts ghosts in the old west. 

"Should I make more?" Rorschach just stares. "What?"

"...Shirt, Daniel?"

"Oh. Oh! I was too hot, but I can put it back on."

"...It's okay," Rorschach mutters, inkblots doing a mad shuffle.

Dan chuckles and settles next to him again, pressing the sweating glass into his partner's ungloved hand. "Great." 

The commercials end, and the title card for the next movie comes up. It's much creepier than _Them!_ , and he's glad to hug Rorschach tightly as the blonde protagonist lurches between the lands of the living and the dead, seduced by a demon lover and playing sensual, unhallowed chords on a church organ. Dan can tell the sex angle is getting to his partner, and wonders miserably if he should've chosen something else. Then Rorschach scoots into his lap, and Dan realizes that this was the only choice. Apparently ghosts get to Rorschach, since he can't just punch them. All through _Them!_ he was full of plans to destroy the ants, and Dan was full of wisecracks about deadly beings with a lust for sugar, but now he just shivers and clings, and Dan watches the film unfold, appreciating its eerie beauty.

Rorschach shudders at the ending, and clings tightly, snapped out of it by an ad for soda. "Hrrm. Beautiful film."

"Yeah, that's what I thought."

"Wouldn't mind being taken by ghouls if they looked like you," Rorschach mutters, and Dan grins.

"Y'think?"

"Mmhm." Rorschach presses a kiss over his heart, and Dan shivers in the heat. 

The noise of the tv fades into nothingness as Rorschach licks and sucks, making soft, wet sounds, the occasional bright pain of teeth making Dan moan until he stops short, aware of just how insistently he's pressing against Rorschach's ass. Rorschach notices in the same moment, and blushes so badly it spills out from under the mask.

"I, uh..." Whatever he was going to say is lost in a squeak as Rorschach slides back just enough to reach down and touch him, squeezing through the fabric. He's rough and unpracticed, but _God_. Dan decides to just shut up and whimper, melting back into the couch, pressing into the touch. Rorschach's breathing is harsh and loud against the background noise, but not as loud as the zipper. "Rorschach?" Rorschach just growls and methodically hauls Dan out, both calloused hands exploring his cock.

"Cut." He finally says, fascinated.

"Y-yeah, I am Jewish, after all." Not particularly devoted or even observant despite his bris, but still.

"Like it," Rorschach murmurs. "Not... soft."

Dan laughs, breathless and little hysterical. "I'd really like to compare."

"Hurm." Rorschach pulls away, and for a moment Dan is terrified that he's fucked everything up, and then Glory Je to Besus, Rorschach is slithering out of his pants.


	7. Chapter 7

_Walter is four years old, much too young to worry overmuch about examinations and what his mom does for a living. He's dirty and doesn't have much to play with, but the other kids are dirty and don't have anything either. They just have each other, a pack of scrawny, smudged shades, thrown outside to do the best they can with the broken bottles and rats while Walter's mom has her friends over and Joey's dad takes his medicine and Rachel's parents fight._

_Today is a warm day in the summer of 1944, and they all bask in a secluded alleyway. It smells bad, but that doesn't bother them. It's a place the big kids never come, and there's always something interesting. Once there was a dead rat all full of maggots, and another time they found a whole quarter and bought candy. Today there's nothing in particular, just the same old tin cans and other crap, and they find a slightly cleaner corner to sit in, basking in the sun like lizards. The chill of winter still hasn't fully left their bones, and they just sit there, enjoying the quiet._

_It's Joey's idea to play a game, and nobody has ever bothered to tell any of them that it's a nasty game, so they sit in a little circle, and Joey goes first. Rachel giggles at the tiny, dangling penis, and Joey giggles when she pokes it. Walter is curious, because his is different, but he's always been a boy. They're both curious about Rachel, and Walter is stunned at the familiarity of her little slit. Is he a girl after all? But that doesn't make any sense. He doesn't play dress up, he has a boy's name, and he has never cried for want of a doll, unlike Rachel. It's his turn next, and even though a sense of foreboding is starting to come over him, he shows the others._

That was the last time before Daniel's first quick once-over, and as he slithers out of his slacks, his mouth goes dry. The difference is more apparent now, his hips subtly rounded out, lips full enough to actually be seen under his... Well, he's always thought of it as a cock, and it certainly waxes and wanes with his lusts, but it has a strange, sleek silhouette, and his foreskin comes to a delicate point, the top longer than the bottom, exposing a devastatingly sensitive spot. It works in reverse, sliding further forward the more aroused he is, and as far as he can tell, that's yet another female trait. He swallows, and sits back so Daniel can see.

"...Wow." And there's no mockery in it, no fascinated disgust. Just wonder, and Rorschach impulsively cuffs the side of his face, too light to hurt.

"Ridiculous, Daniel."

"Me or you?"

"You. Always you."

Daniel snorts, and kisses him deeply, then lines them up against each other, hot, throbbing and slick. Rorschach whimpers, biting his lip and looking down, seeing the differences and the similarities. "God, you're amazing."

Rorschach has nothing to say to that, so he just kisses Daniel again, shaking all over, whining a little as he starts rocking without knowing it. "Daniel, I..." He stops, mortified at the wet noise his cunt makes, drooling like a hungry mouth. Daniel just shudders as the slick drips over both their balls, and slides cautious fingers down the side of his cock, too gentle to pull much, but not gentle enough to snuff that sweet little edge of pain that makes Rorschach whine.

"May I?" Daniel murmurs, calloused fingertips resting just as the boundary of the unthinkable.

"...Yes," Rorschach mutters, and then Daniel's fingers are inside him and he can't think, yelping as they crook and dig at one specific spot that makes his cock twitch.

"God, Rorschach," Daniel purrs, "You're so fucking tight."

All he can do is whine, and wonder how in the hell to get his mouth around the thing he really wants, so much more shameful even than this.


	8. Chapter 8

The journey upstairs is kind of hazy for Dan. He just has his arms full of begging, wriggling Rorschach, and the entire universe is spinning around him. His partner has rasped something desperate about Dan taking him like a man, and dammit, that requires a bed instead of a couch. Rorschach's fedora falls off at the top of the stairs, and it gives Dan an absurd flare of lust to see how little he cares, just glancing back to note its location before actually letting Dan scoop him up and carry him the last few yards, reeling drunkenly and supporting himself against the walls and doorjamb in turn, devouring Rorschach's mouth.

Somehow they make it to the bed, and he feels like it's the goddamn Promised Land. Rorschach whimpers, fumbling out of his clothes with gloved hands, a flush creeping down from under his mask all the way down to his chest. He moans when Dan sucks one nipple into his mouth, then makes a shocked squeak when Dan's fingers slide into him again. "A-asked you to--"

"We need lubrication, and it's hot that you make your own."

Rorschach's pink skin deepens to red. "Degenerate."

"Maybe a little." He bites his partner's neck and savors the way he writhes before pressing one slick finger into his ass. Rorschach's mouth drops open, and he presses down, rock hard.

"Daniel..." he sounds shocked, his voice breathy and helpless.

Dan gently probes deeper, and smiles, finding a prostate and giving it a nice, friendly rub. Rorschach cries out, voice cracking, and Dan shudders, kissing him again, murmuring encouragement into his mouth as he stretches him wider. Wetness pours down from his cunt, providing all the slick two men could ever need. 

"God," he breathes into the crook of Rorschach's neck, "God, I've wanted to do this for so long."

"R-really?" he whispers.

"Yeah." Dan kisses him again. "I'll stop if you need me to," he murmurs, and slides his fingers out, lining himself up against Rorschach and pressing in. 

He's so busy being careful he can barely even appreciate the tight, hot, insanity of everything, but eventually he's fully seated, and the two of them can just breathe together for a long moment. Dan whimpers, pressing a kiss to the top of Rorschach's mask, whining helplessly as they start to move together. His fingers find their way back into Rorschach's cunt, stroking that sweet, improbable warmth. 

He can't speak anymore, but he needs Rorschach to know that he's beautiful, a marvel and not a monster, and tries to put it into every touch, as he covers Rorschach in kisses, stroking his hooded cock until he howls and comes in a massive, silent convulsion, clinging to Dan hard enough to bruise, snarling softly into his ear as he follows, drawn over the edge by Rorschach clamping around him and that voice, low and dark as it growls his name.

"Holy shit," Dan finally says.

"Indeed." Rorschach absently strokes the edge of his mask, and then peels it off all at once before he can lose his nerve. Dan just stares in awe at this new, familiar face, tough and androgynous under its spray of freckles.

Dan grins. "You're beautiful, buddy. Absolutely goddamn beautiful."

"Am not beautiful."

"Mm, just take advantage of my derangement." Dan pulls his partner into his arms and nuzzles that flaming hair.

"...Okay." Rorschach whispers, and turns in Dan's arms to listen to his heartbeat.


End file.
